


Castle In The Clouds III: Raise The Drawbridge!!!

by BradyGirl_12



Series: Castle In The Clouds [3]
Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Challenge Response, Challenges, Classism, Community: BradyGirl_12 DCU Challenges, Drama, Established Relationship, Friendship, Fundamentalism, Homophobia, M/M, Male Slash, Paparazzi, Religion, Religious Fanaticism, Religious Fundamentalism, Series, Slash, Talk Shows, Television, high society - Freeform, snobbery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-04 09:30:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BradyGirl_12/pseuds/BradyGirl_12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enemies of the Prince of Gotham and his Royal Consort storm the Castle!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Plotting In The Conservatory

**Author's Note:**

> Original LJ Dats Of Completion: January 13, 2009-February 7, 2009  
> Original LJ Dates Of Posting: February 7, 2009-April 5, 2009  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.  
> Original LJ Word Count: 419 + 956 + 714 + 622 + 478 + 583 + 509 + 394 + 1415 (Total: 6090)  
> Author’s Note: This story fits my [2009 DCU Fic/Art Tabloids Challenge](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/339713.html).  
> The entire series can be found [here.](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/14407.html)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Society hostess Penelope Carruthers doesn’t approve of the Prince of Gotham’s choice of mate.

“We are not inviting those… _those…”_

Penelope Carruthers sputtered, her perfectly-coiffed chestnut hair framing an outraged expression. Her yellow dress was simple but outrageously expensive, as befitted a Carruthers. She and Amy Stoddard and Maxine Mellon were in the conservatory of Carruthers Hall, the smell of jasmine strong. Amy and Maxine exchanged uneasy glances. 

Maxine’s hazel eyes were troubled. While Amy was almost bone-thin, Maxine had a full figure, wearing a red sweater that her husband Kendall admired. Her ruby bracelet clunked against the table.

“Penelope, we can’t just ignore Bruce Wayne! My god, you don’t snub the Prince!”

“Prince!” Penelope sneered. “He’s betrayed his blue blood.”

“How?” Amy drawled. “Bluebloods have always been, ah, unconventional in their sexual liaisons.”

“But not with their former wards!”

Amy made an impatient gesture. “He’s over 18, gorgeous, and Bruce is crazy about the kid.”

“He’s gutter trash.” Penelope paced back-and-forth in agitation, her 5’10” impressive. “Bad enough Bruce took a circus brat in and made him his heir, but to sleep with the trash…”

Maxine frowned. “He seems decent enough.”

“He’s _circus folk_ , Maxine! Show business! One step up from being a whore! Though that’s pretty appropriate, since Dick is Bruce’s whore now.”

“Pretty harsh,” Amy said as she leaned back in her chair.

“You know I speak the truth.”

Amy shrugged. “I still think you’re playing with fire if you don’t invite Bruce to the Spring Cotillion.”

“The Winter Ball is one thing. That’s a Wayne thing. The Spring Cotillion is different.”

“Yes, that’s a Braddock thing. What do you think our _grande dame_ would say to that?”

Penelope waved her hand. “Elizabeth Braddock is sick. She has devolved all planning for the Cotillion onto me.”

“And our other _grande dame?”_

“Cordelia Kane is in Europe.”

“This isn’t the era of the Grand Tour. I’m sure that Cordelia would know if her nephew was snubbed.”

“She doesn’t care about Gotham Society.”

Skeptical expressions crossed Amy and Maxine’s faces but they held their tongues.

Penelope was well aware of the two leaders of Society, but illness and apathy had put them out of the picture. She was in charge now. If Bruce Wayne wanted to betray his class with a guttersnipe, than he would just have to deal with the consequences.

“Let’s get down to business.”

Penelope rang a little bell for refreshments as she sat down and projected an air of efficiency.

Inside, she was gleefully plotting further humiliation for the Prince and his Boy Whore.


	2. Protesters And Paparazzi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce runs the gauntlet of protestors and paparazzi at Wayne Enterprises.

Bruce walked past the crowd of protesters, stifling the urge to wave mockingly. The Church Of The Word was consistent, he had to give them that. The signs that read **Repent!, Sodomite Sinners!** and **Stop The Perversion!** were as much a part of the décor as the trees on the sidewalk by now, as well as the shouted epithets. 

“How can you live with yourself?”

“Corrupter!”

“Does your boy live up to his name?”

The paparazzi were also hanging around, another daily hurdle. Bruce gritted his teeth as flashbulbs went off and reporters shouted, “Where’s Dick, Mr. Wayne?” 

“How come your boy isn’t with you?” 

“Where’s the kid?”

Bruce either ignored them, or smiled prettily for the cameras. He gave no quotes. He pushed through the revolving door, cutting off the shouts.

“Sorry, sir.” Daniel Kronsky was Bruce’s Head of Security, his handsome face frowning. “I wish we could clear them out.” He brushed back a wave of thick, dark-brown hair, his athletic body coiled in its dark-blue three-piece suit.

“Ah, but they can’t get closer than six feet to the building by court order.”

“I guess we can be grateful for small favors.”

Bruce smiled. “It’s a free country.”

Daniel lifted an eyebrow and Bruce laughed. Daniel was a good man. He just wasn’t overly fond of paparazzi or fundamentalists.

Bruce nodded to the elderly man selling candy and magazines in the lobby. “Hello, Bill.”

“Hey, Mr. Wayne. Whew, what a circus out there, huh?” Bill peered through thick glasses at the protesters and paparazzi outside.

“Pretty much. Oh, well, Dick would appreciate that.”

Bill grinned and handed Bruce his stack of newspapers: _The Gotham Gazette, The Daily Planet_ , and several other important dailies. Bruce smiled and thanked him, handing his money over and entering the elevator.

Once at his floor, he disembarked and smiled at his receptionist and secretary as he went into his office, setting his briefcase and papers on his desk.

Since he and Dick had come out, the usual paparazzi had become more numerous, and the Church Of The Word had added their fanatics to the mix. 

_Well, eventually the story will die down._

At least he hoped so!

Bruce sat down, booting up his computer, reading his e-mails and starting to work.

He was able to keep focused for about a half hour before his worry over Dick got the better of him. It was first day back at Gotham University since their coming out. Dick could handle himself, but the circus surrounding him could distract him from his studies and disrupt the campus.

Bruce let his gaze drift out over the view of the city. He remembered earlier that morning…

& & & & & &

_“Strawberries?”_

_Dick smiled as he ate a juicy berry, legs splayed as silk sheets were draped over his groin, back resting against fat, fluffy pillows._

_He looked absolutely decadent and good enough to eat._

_Bruce felt his body respond as he looked at this dream in bed._

_“You are fuckin’ gorgeous.”_

_“How about just fuckin’ me?”_

_Bruce laughed. “Oh, yeah.” He threw off his towel and climbed onto the bed, tasting sweet strawberries on sweet lips._

& & & & & &

Bruce sighed happily at the memory, smirking as his body showed that it remembered, too. He jumped slightly as the door was opened.

“Sir, Councilman Sanders is here to see you.”

“Thanks, Allison.”

Trent Sanders was smooth, silver-haired, and savvy. He wore tailored suits and spoke engagingly, quite reasonable for a politician, and Bruce could work with him. He didn’t trust him as completely as he trusted Jim Gordon, but close.

“Have a seat,” Bruce smiled as he shook hands with Trent.

They discussed some Wayne Foundation work since Trent served on the Board, and Bruce was glad to get some tasks accomplished before 10:00 in the morning.

“Bruce, I had to run the gauntlet down at the entrance. How are you and Dick doing?”

“We’re handling it pretty well. Paparazzi’s nothing new.”

Trent laughed. “No doubt.” His expression sobered. “I know this isn’t really my business, but then, your private life is all over the tabloids. I just want to say…that boy of yours is a beautiful young man, and he’s clearly crazy about you.” 

Moved, Bruce said, “Thank you, Trent.”

“Don’t let the fanatics get you down.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.” Trent stood up. “I think we can get those initiatives going.”

“Great. Thanks, Trent.”

They shook hands. Trent smiled. “I’ve got to get home and sit through the fashion show.”

“Fashion show?”

Trent laughed. “My wife and daughter are having dresses sent to try on for the Cotillion. Ever since we received our invitations a few days ago they’ve been trying to figure out hair, clothes, jewelry…you know how it goes.”

Bruce smiled. “Yes.” He frowned slightly. “You already received your invitations?”

“Yes. All very fancy, of course. Penelope and her girls are always on top of things.”

“Yes. Well, I’m sure that our invitations will be in the mail today.”

“See you at the Cotillion!”

Bruce walked over to the window after Trent had left. Could the Cotillion Committee be deliberately snubbing him and Dick? 

Before Dick had come into his life, he had considered himself more Bat than billionaire. Now he was Bruce again, wanting to be more than cape and cowl for his young man.

He didn’t like the idea of a social snub. He had a position to maintain, the Wayne legacy to uphold, the leading position in Gotham Society. He wasn’t going to let Penelope Carruthers or any other bigot insult the Wayne name…or Dick.

Bruce buckled down to work, forgetting about the Cotillion for the rest of the day.


	3. Blood In The Moat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the paparazzi chase Dick, Penelope continues with her plans.

“Paparazzi at ten o’clock!”

Dick took off at a run with Jack Ellison, one of his classmates. They ducked into Carruthers Hall.

“Whew, close one,” Dick said.

“They might follow us in.”

“Let’s get upstairs.”

Both boys pounded up the marble staircase, the upper hall empty. Jack’s shoulders and general build were broader than Dick’s, but he could be just as quick with his speed and footwork. Classes had begun for second period, but there was an empty classroom that they were able to duck into, closing the door behind them.

“Wow, ever since you and Bruce came out, the ‘razzis have been crazy.” 

“It has been nutty.” Dick sat in a chair and stretched his legs out. “I guess it’ll take awhile for things to calm down.”

“Do you think it’ll ever calm down?”

“Maybe not.” Dick smiled lazily. “Bruce and I can handle this.”

“You’re sure of that?”

“We always do.”

Jack had to smile at the cocksure attitude, pushing back a lock of blond hair from his eyes. “So the Prince doesn’t mind the erosion of his royal authority?”

Dick laughed. “What?”

Jack sat on the teacher’s desk. “C’mon, man, the Crown doesn’t rest easy. The vassals smell blood in the moat and they’re surrounding the castle.” 

“Ha, not if we raise the drawbridge. Besides, it’s mostly rabble outside the gates, not the vassals.”

“Yeah, well, the paparazzi are more honest about their sleaziness. Gotham High Society? They hide it behind their designer clothes and fancy jewels, but they’re just as sleazy.”

“Believe me, you’re preaching to the choir.”

“Good. Watch your back, young Knight. Those High Society types will cut your heart out with a rusty knife if they get the chance.”

& & & & & &

The motorcycle roared up the quiet country road, Dick slowing down as he saw the gaggle of paparazzi hanging out around the Manor gates.

“Hey, Dick!”

“Hey, Ty!” Dick rolled to a stop, smiling as flashes went off. “Aren’t you guys cold hanging out here?”

“Hey, gotta make a livin’!” Ty Wilson snapped a picture.

Dick stifled a sigh. He knew these guys had a job to do, and most of the time he didn’t mind, but there were out-of-towners and other new people on the gossip beat since their coming out, some of them overly aggressive. The regulars like Ty pretty much knew to keep their distance. He carefully ignored the shouts of the paparazzi he didn’t know.

“Yeah, well, nothing new to report.” He put his helmet back on, pressing a beeper that alerted Alfred to open the filigreed iron gates. Dick drove his ‘cycle through, murmuring, “Raise the drawbridge, Alfred!” 

The gates closed behind him as the motorcycle sped up the driveway.

& & & & & &

“Penelope, dearest, how goes the Cotillion planning?”

“Hello, Marshall.” Penelope pushed back a strand of hair from her brow.

Her husband walked into the living room, loosening his tie. He headed over to the bar and poured himself a bourbon.

“Scotch?”

“Thank you.”

He brought the glass over. A big, broad-shouldered man, he enjoyed his afternoon drink. Hazel eyes glanced at her list. “All the big names, I see.” He took a swig of bourbon. 

“Yes.” Penelope tapped her pencil on the table. “Do you think we should go with shrimp this year?”

“Sounds good to me.” Marshall took another healthy swallow. “So, did Bruce get a separate invitation?”

“What?”

He tapped the list with his finger. “I don’t see his name on the list. It’s usually right at the top.”

“He’s not invited.”

“Are you _crazy,_ woman?”

“Don’t ‘woman’ me.” Penelope batted her husband’s hand away.

“Why on earth would you leave Bruce’s name off?”

“You have to ask?”

“Of course I do! What are you up to, Penny?”

Penelope smiled. “You’ll see, dear.”

“You better know what you’re doing.”

“Of course I do.”

“Why?”

“Do you want Bruce to arrive with his guttersnipe? The Winter Ball was one thing. No one could stop that shameful display, but this can be stopped.”

Marshall finished his drink. “Courting Bruce Wayne as an enemy is reckless.”

Penelope’s eyes glittered.

“When I’m through with him, the Prince will lose his Crown and be kicked out of the Castle.”


	4. The Church Of The Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New enemies swim the moat: The Church Of The Word declares war on Bruce and Dick.

“It’s just _horrid_ , my dear, _horrid.”_

“Hmm, yes.” Alexandra “Alex’ Maycomb kept a neutral expression on her face. Her long, chestnut hair was simply stylized, her squash-colored dress a complement to her coloring. As host of _Gotham Today_ , neutrality was her stock-in-trade. “So what are your plans, Reverend Spear?”

“To coordinate with Gotham’s League Of Decency and oust this reprehensible sinner.”

“How do you intend to oust Bruce Wayne?”

“Do we really want a sinner as our leading citizen, Miss Maycomb?” The ruddy reverend leaned forward earnestly, wrinkling his pearl-gray vest. “He is not the kind of role model that we want for our children.”

“So you object to…?”

Spear huffed, waving a large hand. “To his homosexuality, of course.”

“I would say its bisexuality, considering all the women he’s dated.”

“Apparently they didn’t take.”

Alex crossed her legs. Her expert eyes catalogued Arlen Spear’s silver hair, expensive suit, and pale blue eyes. He had charm that he used to his advantage, and commanded a considerable amount of followers via the church he led, The Church Of The Word, and his own TV program, _Live The Word._

“So will you continue to picket outside of Wayne Enterprises?”

“And every place Wayne appears.”

“Are you still picketing outside Gotham University where Dick Grayson attends?”

“Oh, yes, and we’ll be picketing outside Wayne Manor, too.”

“I see.”

“Those of us who believe in morality can never relax our vigilance, Miss Maycomb. Bruce Wayne has pushed his sinful relationship in our faces. We have the right to protect our children.”

“So you think that our children are threatened by Bruce Wayne’s relationship with Dick Grayson?” 

“Of course! For several reasons.”

“And they are…?”

“Firstly, young Grayson was Wayne’s _ward_ , for pity’s sake! That brings up all manner of unsavory questions.

“Secondly, Grayson comes from a sketchy background. Carny folk are unsavory with their history of petty theft and scams.”

Alex blinked. “I would say that circus performers would be surprised to be painted as thieves and con artists.”

“Not all, of course, but enough to get the reputation.”

“If you object to the romance, why not simply ignore them? Why try to drive them out of Gotham?”

“First of all, two men having sex isn’t a romance. Same as two women.

“Secondly, immorality should never be ignored.”

& & & & & & &

Alfred put down his cup of tea as he watched the repeat of the morning interview on _Tea Time With Sarah O’Toole_ , Gotham’s most popular afternoon talk show. The morning show interview was the hot topic of the day.

“Good luck in driving the Waynes out of Gotham, you pretentious popinjay.”

“Talking to yourself, Alfred?” Dick asked in amusement as he entered the kitchen, black leather jacket creaking.

“Watching the ‘good’ Reverend Spear would get a mutant to talk.”

Dick looked at the small portable television on the counter. “Hmm, a jolly fellow.”

“Quite.”

“Let me guess…Bruce and I are the hot topic?” He took a chocolate chip cookie out of the cookie jar.

“Regrettably so, young sir.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll blow over.”

“Let us hope so.”

“Thanks for assist with the drawbridge.” Dick picked out another cookie.

“Draw…?” Alfred saw the mischief in Dick’s eyes. “Shall I feed the denizens of the moat, sir?”

“Nah, let ‘em forage for themselves.” Dick drank a glass of milk. “I’ve got some studying to do.” Dick filled a plate with several more cookies and bounded up the staircase toward his bedroom.

Alfred certainly hoped that all this nonsense would blow over soon.

He carefully tried to tamp his anger down, especially the slurs against Dick’s background.

He wondered if Bruce had heard the interview yet.


	5. Mad Bruce Wayne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is _not_ happy with the Reverend Spear.

Bruce nearly slammed the remote on his desk. Trembling with fury, he was tempted to march downstairs and go into a tirade over the slurs tossed Dick’s way.

How _dare_ that pompous ass imply that Dick was a thief and con artist! And his parents, too! And that he came from an unsavory background simply because he was from circus folk.

_That’s really a new low even for you, Spear._

Dick would find out about it, even if he didn’t see the program. He hit a button on his desk and walnut doors slid shut silently, concealing the TV in the large cabinet.

Late afternoon light streamed in through the windows. Spring was fast approaching but it still became dark early.

_The hell with this. I’m going home._

He picked up his briefcase and left the office.

“I’m going home, Allison.”

Sympathy flickered in her green eyes.

Bruce’s anger simmered as he passed the paparazzi and protestors, glaring at the sign-wielders. Flashbulbs went off, and his glare was sure to make the six o’clock news.

_Screw ‘em!_

He scowled all the way home, driving a little too fast on the country roads.

He swore under his breath as he saw the paparazzi outside the Manor’s gates.

_Well, at least the fundies aren’t here yet._

Bruce slowed down, driving past the gaggle of reporters and photographers and on through the gates, the iron clanging shut behind his Porsche.

& & & & & &

Bruce’s stride ate up the stairs to the bedroom. He stormed in, Dick looking up from the bed.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?”

“Just general frustration, I guess.” Bruce yanked off his tie and flung it on a chair.

Dick flipped the pages of his textbook, papers scattered around the bed. “You know, your ancestor was one crazy dude.”

“What?” Bruce removed his shirt.

“Mad Anthony Wayne. He sure made some crazy decisions during the Revolution.”

“He had _chutzpah _, all right.” Bruce stepped out of his pants. “Brilliant tactician. He had some amazingly intuitive flashes of insight.”__

__“Your family’s been here forever,”_ _

__“Yeah.”_ _

___And no two-bit pseudo-preacher is going to drive my family out of this city. We were here long before Spear and his motley group, and we’ll be here long after._ _ _

__Bruce took a quick shower. When he re-emerged into the bedroom, towel around his waist, Dick was staring at his cellphone._ _

__“You knew about the interview,” Dick said._ _

__“I did.”_ _

__Dick’s voice trembled. “He called all circus folk thieves and scammers.” He took a deep breath._ _

__“He’s an ignorant bigot.”_ _

__Dick was quiet for a moment, then said, “Yeah.”_ _

__Bruce approached the bed. “Forget about him.” He ran his fingers through Dick’s silky hair._ _

__Dick smiled and reached out, whipping Bruce’s towel off._ _

__Bruce answered that smile as he climbed on the bed, Dick’s papers scattering._ _


	6. Jim's Bet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reverend Spear has fanatical followers. Bruce and Dick have loyal allies.

The crush of paparazzi had grown exponentially since Arlen Spear’s inflammatory comments. Bruce and Dick paused outside the front gates, Bruce saying, “The Reverend Spear smeared Dick Grayson and a whole group of talented, hard-working people with his comments yesterday.”

“What do you have to say, Dick?”

“How’s it feel to be labeled a thief and a liar?”

“Do you consider yourself immoral?”

Dick got out of the Porsche, resting his arm on the hood of the car.

“I find it pretty disgusting that the reverend would smear a whole group of people with his bigotry. Circus folk are _extremely_ hard-working and honest.

“And not to mention the scurrilous remarks about gay people!

 _“This_ is loving Christianity? Pretty odd brand of it, if you ask me.”

“So you consider Reverend Spear a bigot?”

“He seems eager to stereotype entire groups of people. I call that bigoted.”

“Bruce, do you agree?”

“What do you say, Bruce?”

“C’mon, give us something!”

“I’m in perfect agreement with Dick.” Bruce revved the engine. “Now we have to get to work and school. Goodbye, ladies and gentlemen.”

Dick got back into the car and the Porsche roared down the road.

& & & & & &

“I don’t think you have to worry too much about the ravings of a catamite.”

Arlen Spear sat comfortably in his chair on the _Live The Word_ set. The studio audience cheered, the reverend looking down on them benevolently.

“The boy is really quite pathetic. An orphaned urchin taken in by a wealthy benefactor, seducing a morally-loose man.”

Applause.

“Good people should not have to put up with such scandalous behavior. Gotham is a good city with good people. We need to shed our sinful image.”

Applause.

“People want us to give up. They want us to go away, to keep our mouths shut.

 _“Will_ we keep quiet?”

_“No!”_

_“Will_ we turn a blind eye to sin?”

_“No!!”_

_“Will_ we allow sodomites and thieves honor here in Gotham?”

_“No!!!”_

& & & & & &

Jim Gordon shut off the TV in his office. So much for the luster of the Wayne name. Bruce was going to take a hit.

_A nasty one._

A knock on the door announced the end of Jim’s ruminations. He started to request entrance when Barbara poked her head in.

“Hey! Glad to see you, Princess.”

“Hi, Dad.” Barbara came in, shutting the door behind her. “I’m surprised the force isn’t mobilized for battle.”

“Why?”

“Apparently Gotham’s under siege by sodomites and lion tamers, according to the Right Reverend Arlen Spear.”

Jim snorted. “Right of the Attila the Hun, but not right about much else. Windbag!”

“An influential windbag.” Barbara kissed her father and sat down in the chair in front of his desk. “He’s really hammering Bruce and Dick.”

“The crazies are usually out for blood.” Jim sighed. “A shame, really. I’ve never seen Bruce happier.”

“I know. It really sucks that people are bound-and-determined to destroy that happiness.”

“There’s always someone jealous.”

Barbara nodded sadly. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

Jim sat back, resting his hands on his stomach. “Maybe keep Bruce’s name in the news…in a _good_ way.”

“I like that idea, Dad.”

Jim smiled. His little girl always loved a good cause. Her green eyes glinted with determination. Her red hair was arranged neatly in a bun, her clothes very professional.

She looked ready for battle.

In a battle of wits, Jim always bet on his daughter.


	7. The Blarney Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara cooks up a plan.

Dick ignored some of the looks thrown his way. The crush of paparazzi was growing by the day. As annoying as they could be, they paled in comparison to the fundies.

The students at Gotham University ignored the two groups for the most part, but Dick suspected that some of them agreed with the Reverend Spear. Still, some of the students were mocking the Church of the Word protesters, so that was something.

He stifled a sigh. He didn’t like the hits that Bruce’s name was taking, nor his own family. It was useless to debate Spear. Close-minded people didn’t debate, they preached.

He entered the library, smiling as he saw Barbara. She was working at her computer at the reference desk.

“Hey, Beautiful.”

She smiled as she continued typing. “Hey, Beautiful.”

Dick grinned. “What’s good in the stacks?”

Barbara laughed. She looked up and her eyes sparkled in admiration at Dick.

“Your hair always looks its best in sunlight.”

Barbara preened, a nimbus of gold outlining her hair.

“You must be part Irish. You’ve got the gift of blarney, Grayson.”

Dick laughed. “Does that mean that Bruce is the Blarney Stone?” He pursed his lips in a kiss.

Barbara grinned as she adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses. “You like to live dangerously, Grayson. My girlfriend might be a tad upset.”

“Hmm, considering that she could send me into next Sunday with a flick of her finger, I’ll try not to tick her off.”

“Good plan.”

Barbara’s hand bumped against the keyboard and a national news site popped up. A headline screamed, **PREACHER CHARGES PRINCE OF GOTHAM WITH GROSS IMMORALITY!**

“Sorry.”

Dick shrugged. “That’s pretty mild compared to his usual rant.”

“He’s a slick con artist.”

“Yeah, well, con artists are usually good at what they do.”

“Imagine that. And he doesn’t even work in a circus.”

Dick snorted as Barbara grinned.

“Go study, scholar. I’ll be here if you need help.”

“Thanks, Red.”

Dick sauntered off to a table, Barbara admiring the view.

& & & & & &

Anger roiled in her, angry at Spear and the other bigots out there. She had seen the hurt behind Dick’s flippant façade.

_He and Bruce deserve better._

She turned back to her computer.

_Time to do a little digging on the reverend._

& & & & & &

Alex sighed. Spear was really loathsome, but he got ratings, and that was the name of the game.

But she’d be damned if she let him spout his views and stack the audience with his shills this time.

A debate.

That would be good.

And it sure wouldn’t hurt the ratings.

& & & & & &

Barbara smiled as she read her notes. Oh, yes, this would work. The only question was how to use this information to the best advantage.

_“… **Gotham Today** is interested in people willing to debate the Reverend Arlen Spear on next Monday’s show…”_

Barbara smiled. She picked up the phone.

“Alex, darling, I’d like to talk to you about next Monday’s show.”


	8. A Man's Home Is His Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Prince and his Royal Consort raise the drawbridge, they enjoy their time in the Royal Bedchamber. ;)

“Hey, you’re home early.” Dick looked up from the bed where he had scattered textbook and papers, his laptop beside him.

“It’s snowing pretty hard. I didn’t want to get stuck in the city.” Bruce began removing his cufflinks.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hmm?”

“Come on, Bruce, it’s me.”

Bruce smiled as he carefully placed his father’s cufflinks in his jewelry box. “I can’t come home to my beautiful young man without something wrong?”

Dick grinned. “Hey, I’m not complaining.” He leaned back against the headboard. “I just want to make sure everything’s okay.”

Bruce smiled softly. “Can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Nope.”

Bruce laughed. He quickly undressed. “Meet you in the shower.”

Dick hastily gathered his book and papers together and stuck them in the hollowed section of the nightstand, placing the laptop on a chair.

He stripped in record time, entering the steamy bathroom. Sliding the shower door open, he grinned and stepped inside. 

“Mmm.” Dick shut the door and kissed Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce purred and rolled his shoulder back, Dick laughing and slipping his arms around his lover’s waist.

Water cascaded over the bodies, Dick’s cock poking at Bruce’s buttocks, rubbing up-and-down as Bruce moaned.

“Oh, yeah.” Dick jutted his hips forward, pushing Bruce up against the tiles. He nibbled kisses along the back of Bruce’s neck, his excitement growing as he slowly ground against Bruce. “Mmm, _so_ good. Yeah, I love you _so_ much, Bruce.” He grasped the older man’s hips.

“Yes,” Bruce breathed.

“Love you!”

Delicious, hot, wet, cool water splashing over bare skin, seed spilling out to run down strong thighs.

Dick fell against Bruce with a happy sigh.

& & & & & &

“You’re so quiet.” Dick kissed Bruce’s shoulder as the fire crackled in the fireplace, snow falling outside the window. They were curled up under the blankets, pleasantly sated. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Bruce gently pushed stray hair out of Dick’s eyes. “I don’t like the slurs against you.”

“Ah.” Dick sighed. “I’m not happy about them, either.” He took Bruce’s hand and kissed the palm. “But you and I are invincible together, Bruce. That I know.”

Bruce smiled.

“No patrol tonight?”

“No patrol.” Bruce’s eyes sparkled. “We’re raising the drawbridge tonight.”

Dick laughed as Bruce drew him close, throwing the blankets up over their heads.


	9. Lavender And Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara takes on the Reverend Spear.

The Dynamic Duo glided silently over Gotham’s rooftops, stars glittering in the clear night sky.

Both were happy for the patrol and getting some frustrations out after a tough week. Tackling a gang of muggers in the park had been just the thing.

Batman watched Robin’s turn of leg, yellow cape fluttering, and knew all the crap flung their way since coming out was worth it.

Let the vassals try and storm the castle.

The Dark Knight and his Bright Squire would beat them all.

& & & & & &

Barbara settled into her chair, the technician clipping the mike on her green blouse. She smiled her thanks as she adjusted her glasses.

The light-green blouse meshed well with her dark-green skirt. Her red hair was partially pulled back with a large amber-colored barrette, most of her tresses loose and flowing. A gold circular brooch gleamed on her collar. 

Alex put a hand on her shoulder. “Lookin’ good, Red.”

“Thanks.” Barbara smiled. “And thanks for cooperating with me on this.”

“Hey, my ratings will go sky-high.” Alex squeezed her shoulder. “ So I’m happy to cooperate.”

“Sure, all for the ratings.” Barbara winked.

“That’s right.” Alex removed her hand and conferred with her producer.

Arlen Spear appeared, waving to cheers from the audience.

“Hello, Miss Gordon.”

“Hello, Reverend Spear.”

“Good luck to you, little lady.”

Barbara’s smile was lethal. “And to you.” She shook hands with him, checking over her notes with anticipation.

& & & & & &

Dick sighed as he wrote his paper in the deserted library. He could have used one of the computers but wasn’t in the mood, preferring to stay in this out-of-the-way corner. He’d type up the longhand when he got home. Damn for forgetting to bring his laptop!

Where was everybody? This place was nearly empty on a Monday morning.

Barbara wasn’t here, probably working another shift or it was her day off.

Dick massaged between his eyes. It had been a busy night of patrol last night once the storm had passed. 

His lips curved as he remembered the previous Friday. 

_We raised the drawbridge that night._

Smiling, Dick went back to work on his paper.

& & & & & &

Finishing, he sat back with an accomplished sigh. Now just to type it up later and he could cross this item off his to-do list.

Restless, he decided to go to the student lounge. Let people stare if they wanted.

He reached the lounge and saw most of the students gathered around the television. 

_“And now we are pleased to welcome the Reverend Arlen Spear of the Church Of The Word.”_

Loud applause from the studio audience.

_“And to debate him, Ms. Barbara Gordon of Gotham University.”_

Loud cheers from the studio audience and the students in the lounge.

 _Barbara?_ Dick thought, stunned but suddenly amused.

& & & & & &

Penelope settled comfortably in her chair. This was going to be good.

& & & & & &

In Wayne Manor, Alfred stopped his dusting and sat down in front of the television.

& & & & & &

Bruce watched from his behind his desk at the office, blue eyes stormy.

& & & & & &

Jim Gordon watched in his office, smiling as he polished his glasses.

& & & & & &

Alex was wearing a dark-purple dress today, her hair flowing softly over her shoulders. The reverend looked crisp in his pearl-gray suit, and Barbara was gorgeous in her green skirt and blouse. Everyone would look great on TV. 

_Now to start the fireworks._

“Reverend Spear, you’re stated your opposition to Bruce Wayne’s relationship with his former ward, Dick Grayson.” Spear nodded. “And you, Ms. Gordon, contend that the reverend and his church are being homophobic.” Barbara nodded. “Let the debate begin.”

The audience, split between both debaters, whooped their support.

“Reverend…” Alex indicated he should begin.

Spear nodded. “Bruce Wayne is a leading citizen of Gotham, yet this city deserves better than a sodomite and his circus catamite.” 

“Yes!”

“Way to go, Reverend!”

“You tell it, sir!”

“That’s a habit of yours, Reverend, slurring Dick Grayson not only for his sexual orientation but for his show business background.” Barbara smiled as her supporters cheered.

“Well, Miss Gordon, it’s because it’s the truth.”

“Yes, it’s true he comes from the circus.”

“And combined with his loose morals, it’s a volatile combination.”

Barbara shifted her clipboard, but Alex could read her old friend: she was furious.

“You have some 19th century views on entertainers, Reverend. Dick Grayson is a fine young man.

“And as for his homosexuality, get with it! This is the 21st century. Gay people can get married, for pity’s sake! Bruce and Dick have chosen each other and they’re not harming anyone by loving each other.”

“Go, Barbara!”

“Yeah!”

“Stop the homophobia!”

“Very good rabble-rousing technique,” said Spear, his smile making Alex’ skin crawl.

“I’ve studied fundamentalist methods, Reverend. Supporters are always key.”

“Yes, well, people can see the truth.”

“I agree.” Barbara’s green eyes sparked. “They can see you as a purveyor of hate.”

“Yes!”

“The truth isn’t hate!”

“Bigot!”

Both sides were yelling, the church folk against the college students. Alex glanced at her head of security, who nodded. He had it all under control.

_For now._

“You’re pretty easy with words like ‘hate’ and ‘bigot’, Miss Gordon.”

“You throw them around quite easily yourself, Reverend. If either Bruce of Dick were female, we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”

“That’s true, Miss Gordon.”

“So you admit your prejudice.”

“It’s not prejudice. It’s morality. You can’t simply sweep that aside.” Spear looked earnestly into the camera. “We will be there at Wayne Enterprises, Gotham University, at Wayne Manor itself.”

Wild applause.

“But Bruce and Dick are doing no harm to anyone.”

“They are harmful to our children, setting a bad example of living in sin.”

“They aren’t going anywhere, Reverend. Bruce Wayne’s family founded this city. He’s going nowhere, and neither is Dick Grayson.”

“We must rid ourselves of this blight!”

The crowd answered, “Yes!”

“Free us from the stain of sin!”

“Yes!”

“Don’t let the rich and privileged dictate your moral surroundings!”

“No!”

“Is this a prayer meeting, Reverend?”

Spear smiled. “Truth can be difficult, Miss Gordon.”

“Yes. Is it true that you might not find the gay lifestyle all that bad?”

“It’s a diseased lifestyle.”

Barbara shook her head. “Sorry, Reverend. I think that you might be more generous in your appreciation, sir. Lavender is the key.”

Spear’s smile froze a fraction. “Are you talking about aesthetics?”

“I am. After all, the Greeks appreciated the male form. I think we can agree that male beauty is worthy of admiration.”

“Ah, yes, I think so.”

“So you see, it’s not so far of a stretch to accept the Wayne/Grayson pairing.”

Spear crossed his arms. “Perhaps we can make some compromises.”

“You see, Reverend? Rationality can allow us to work things out amicably.”

& & & & & &

“What the hell?” Penelope sat back disgustedly.

So much for her secret alliance with the good reverend. Well, she would still find a way to keep Bruce Wayne’s reputation tarnished.

& & & & & &

“Bravo, Miss Barbara,” Alfred said as he rose to make himself a cup of tea.

& & & & & &

Bruce rocked slightly in his chair. “What are you up to, Barbara?”

& & & & & &

Dick’s eyes sparkled. “That’s my girl.”

& & & & & &

Jim echoed Dick’s sentiment with a laugh.

& & & & & &

“Great show, Barb.” 

“Thanks, Alex.”

The two women were backstage, Alex smirking as she crossed her arms. “So the lavender key worked.”

Barbara gave an answering smirk of her own. She held out a computer print-out.

 _“The Lavender Key_ is a very discreet gay nightclub. Which the good reverend patronizes whenever he visits New Orleans.”

Alex grinned. “So you think the Church Of The Word will back off?”

“If the Reverend Spear knows what’s good for him.”

Alex chuckled. “Where do you get stuff like this?”

Barbara’s eyes sparkled. “I have my ways.”

& & & & & &

The next day, Barbara received a delivery of the finest Belgian chocolates from the most exclusive chocolatier in Gotham.

She smiled as she sampled a divine chocolate.

The Prince and his Consort sure knew how to take care of a girl.


End file.
